Camisado
by Megii of Mysteri OusStranger
Summary: A student and her teacher, in love. It was her teacher, not her father, that raised her to be a woman. Surprise pairing.


**Camisado**

_A student and her teacher, in love. It was her teacher, not her father, that raised her to be a woman. Surprise pairing._

* * *

He has a harsh man. He was an even harsher teacher. He was a man that had seen and survived through war (a war which cost him an eye), a man that thrived on violence, lived off the meager plants that their environment gave them, didn't accept anything less than the best, and the man that taught her everything she knew. He was thirty-five years to her seventeen; he was older than her father, but he wasn't her father and for that she was thankful, because, to her, he was so much more.

To her, he wasn't a father to replace the one that had ignored her. Instead, he was a mentor, a teacher, and a lover. Well, maybe "lover" was too strong a word, but still, he was there.

Civilians sneered in disgust at the thought of their relationship, whispered names like "pedophile" and "whore," insisted that he was _far_ too old for her. She didn't give a damn what the masses thought. She wasn't a petite little geisha, nor a wishy-washy housewife. She led a life that only others like her could understand. She killed, she stole, she crept through shadows. Death was always stalking her steps, just like it stalked every other ninja in the world. There was no way to be sure if she would live to see the next day or not. Ninja were killers, and she was just one of the many hounds that served under the Shinigami, doomed to one day be killed herself by a stronger hound under her master.

So she loved him, this man that was "too old for her;" she loved him hard and true and trained herself so that if he died before she did, she would be strong enough to not cry and move on quickly, because that was how things worked.

Everything she knew she learned from him. It was he who taught her how to catch and hold the wind in her hands. He taught her how to kill quickly and silently, so that the target hit the floor before he even got the chance to grunt in surprise. He bound her to the contract of the Weasels and taught her how to fight alongside them.

He taught her how to apply make-up and how to dress in suggestive clothing for undercover missions. He told her which womanly accessories were best for concealed weapons; showed her how a push-up bra could be converted into a shuriken holder, how to make a pair of geta leave animal footprints instead of human ones, how turn lipgloss into poison in order to kill with a discreet kiss. He taught her how to seduce men and women alike.

They just never counted on her managing to seduce _him_.

He wasn't a handsome man, he barely scrapped by average when his empty eye socket was covered. People stared when they went out together, wondering why _she_, the Princess of Suna, chose _him_ over all the other suitors. She didn't bother trying to explain it to them, civilians could not understand. She didn't love him for his looks.

She loved him for pushing her when she wanted to give up, for carrying her when she was too weak to stand, for having her back when she just wasn't quite fast enough, for teaching her to overcome the things she was afraid of, for making time to listen to her worries even when he was at his busiest. He was the one that took the hand of an unsure little girl and made her grow into a confident, strong woman.

"Temari,"

She turned away from the window, her gaze falling away from the countless sparkling stars to rest upon his shadowed face. He had himself propped up on one elbow, dark red sheets covering him from the waist down.

"You're still awake? Come to bed," he beckoned.

She smiled softly and stepped away from the window and slipped smoothly into his arms. "I'm sorry, Baki," she said, kissing him lightly, "I'm just a bit restless, that's all." She rested her fingers on his cheek.

The sleepiness melted out of his eye, replaced with a familiar devious glint she knew all too well. He covered her lips with his, and pushed her into the futon, his heavily muscled form trapping her beneath him.

He smirked at her flushed face, and dipped his large, calloused hand between the folds of her night robe. "I think I can take care of that."

**End**

* * *

_There's loads of KakashixSakura stories, but what about the other teachers and students? This little plot bunny has been sleeping inside for my head for a long time. There is a severe lack of Baki in the fandom. So, I took it upon myself to add to that particular section of the Naruto fan world, just a bit._

_Read, review, and all that jazz!_

_~Megii_


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